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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
















































Sift 


Entered according to Act ol Congress, in the year 1889, 

BY J. A. DANKS, 

In the Office ol the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 













3 


INTRODUCTORY. 


Gentle Reader: 

The strongest and brightest thoughts that 
are to be met in the literary world of to-day 
are found in the poetic utterances of men and 
women, for this reason: strong emotions will 
not remain in the line of common prose, but 
necessarily leap into the poetic. This little 
book does not contain all the truths that are in 
this world, but all that are here are useful. 

This book does not claim to be of the 
highest style of literary productions ; but it is 
the grandest and best book its author ever 
produced. It was not written in old Bedford 
Jail, London ; but in some respects its author 
is- very much like the man who did write a 
book there, for he has had to battle with some 
of the difficulties which confronted John 
Bunyan. But to the loyal, good and true this 
little book is dedicated by the author, 

J. A. I)anks. 











4 


V0I6ES FOR THE UNION. 


While seated on the summit of Mt. Washington, with the busy 
cities of Pittsburgh and Allegheny spread out before me, and the rivers 
flowing rapidly by (for it was at the time of a flood), I could not resist 
thoughts of the past, and I said : How important to hill and dale, com¬ 
merce and home, that the Union was saved from wreck and ruin when 
traitors sought its overthrow; for all things and interests seem to need 
the Union ; and there, while musing, voices seemed to come to me cry¬ 
ing out for the Union. 


From all the mountains and the hills, 

With all their pines and oaks and ferns, 

When morning’s gentle dew distills, 

Or the sun in noontide glory burns, 

There comes a voice from woods and plain, 
The Union should forever remain! 

From every ocean, lake and bay, 

With all the ships and yachts that sail 

On peaceful seas—or anchored lay 
Within the harbor—wrecked and frail, 

There comes a voice, with might o'er main, 
The Union should forever remain! 

From all the forts and rifle-pits, 

With all their toil and sweat and blood. 

Where freedom’s angel proudly sits 
A nymph—that rose above the flood. 

There comes a voice, 'tis low yet plain, 

The Union should forever remain! 







5 


From all the graves*of those who died 
To keep the nation pure and strong, 

With all their life-work, multiplied 
By lapse of years and soul of song, 

There comes a voice, like spirit rain, 

The Union should forever remain! 

From all the freedmen in this land, 

Who know the worth of equal rights 

And feel that their duty is to stand 

By those who stood and fought their fights, 

There comes these words, need I explain, 

O, let de Union still remain! 

From all the hardy sons of toil. 

Who need protection and fair play 

To make the steel and till the soil, 

Then count their increase day by day. 

There comes these words, like the lightning train, 
The Union we need and will maintain! 

From North and South, from East and West, 

From all the loyal, good and true, 

Who for the nation stand abreast, 

’Neath stars and stripes and spangled blue, 

There comes these words, in glad refrain, 

The Union we love and will maintain! 

Cheer up, ye veteran legion band, 

Your toils and sufferings all are o'er; 

God holds the dry land in his hand. 

He rules the seas from shore to shore, 

You shout with hand and heart and brain, 

The Union must forever remain! 











6 


THE SUPERIORITY OF THE BLUE. 


For many years prior to 1861, political differences, individual opin¬ 
ions and interpretations, coupled with selfishness and ambition, kept 
the nation in a constant turmoil. Statesmen East, West, North and 
South grappled with those questions and differences, but no solution 
came to the nation. Indeed, their efforts seemed only to result in a 
widening of the breach, so that it was manifest that a storm was gather¬ 
ing in America. In 1860 dark political clouds were seen around our 
horizon. In 1861 they had spread over our national sky and war was 
declared in free America. The sun of peace and prosperity was dark¬ 
ened. The sound of the timbrel and harp gave place to the life and 
drum, and war, cruel war, was in the land; but there was patriotism, 
virtue and honor in the people and they were sufficient- for the occasion. 


When the war cloud, dark and dreary. 
O'er the nation spread its pall; 

When Freedom's eagde, faint and weary, 
Keeling, toppling, seemed to fall; 
Then it was, with courage dauntless, 

For the right, the good, the true, 
There came in numbers almost countless, 
Patriotic men in blue. 

Bravely did our country's yeomen, 

With our banner floating' high. 

Meet the foes of right and freedom, 

Each resolved to win or die. 

Some have fallen, and now moulder 
In the grave oft wet with dew, 

But the fame of Union soldier 
Is immortal, like the blue. 









April Ninth, at Appomattox, 

Witnessed what words cannot say; 

When our God, with Grant commanding, 
Stamped defeat on all the gray. 

Then it was our prayers were answered, 
And our term of service through, 

When old glory, unmolested, 

Waved in triumph o'er the blue. 

Wave it must while time is passing; 

Wave it will when time is o'er; 

From the womb of morning flashing, 
Proudly gild the eternal shore. 

But the gray to darkness driven, 

All the ceaseless ages through, 

While the pure and good in heaven, 

Crowned with freedom, hail the blue. 

Comrades, we should never falter, 

But through life together stand; 

All we have placed on the altar 
Of this highly favored land; 

Kindly caring for the widow. 

And the orphan of the true, 

Till the immortal Camp Commander 
Says, receive the white for blue. 

Then earth's bugle calls no longer 
Can disturb our calm repose; 

There we change by growing stronger. 
Never overpowered by foes. 

Wait, then, hero, wait the secpiel 
To this life of checkered hue! 

Time will show God owns none equal 
To the men who wore the blue! 









8 


UPON TJHE FIEIsD OF GETTYSBURG. 


When the battle of Gettysburg was over and the proper details had 
been made by the Union Army to collect and bury the dead, one 
squad of men came to a man lying on the sod, dressed in blue and hold¬ 
ing in his hand an ambrotype likeness of three little children. The 
dead man’s eyes seemed to be gazing at them. There were no marks 
on the man to give hisname, state, company or regiment. The authori¬ 
ties had photograph pictures taken from the ambrotype likeness, and 
scattered them all over the'northern states. Up in the state of New York 
they found the man’s wife and three children. The family were taken 
to Gettysburg; the wife was made matron of the Soldiers’ Orphan 
School there, and the children were educated in that Institution. 


Upon the field of Gettysburg 
The summer sun was high, 

When Freedom met her haughty foe 
Beneath a northern sky. 

Among the heroes of the North 
Who swelled the grand array, 

And rushed like mountain eagles forth 
From the happy homes away, 
There stood a man of humble fame, 

A sire of children three, 

And gazed within a little frame 
Their pictured forms to see. 

And blame him not if in the strife 
He breathed a soldier's prayer— 
k *0! Father, shield the soldier’s wife, 
And for his children care.” 












9 


Upon the field of Gettysburg, 

When morning shone again, 

The crintson cloud of battle burst 
In streams of fiery rain. 

Our legions quelled the awful flood 
Of shot and steel and shell; 

While banners marked with ball and blood, 
Around them rose and fell— 

And none more nobly won the name 
Of Champion of the Free 
Than he who pressed the little frame 
That held his children three— 

And none were braver in the strife 
Than he who breathed the prayer, 

“O! Father, shield the soldier’s wife 
And for his children care/’ 

Upon the field of Gettysburg 
The full moon slowly rose, 

She looked and saw ten thousand brows 
All pale in death’s repose; 

And down beside a silver stream, 

From other forms away, 

Calm as a warrior in a dream 
Our fallen comrade lay. 

His limbs were cold—his sightless eyes 
Were fixed upon the three 
Sweet stars that rose in memory’s skies 
To light him o’er death’s sea. 

Then honored be the soldier’s life, 

And hallowed be his prayer, 

“O! Father, shield the soldier’s wife, 

“And for his children care.” 






I BELIEVE IJNJ (SOD. 


They say there’s a land o’er the ocean 

Where wonders and beauties are seen; 

They say it’s a glorious Eden, 

Where none but the blessed convene. 

Many friends for that land have departed, 

They have crossed over life's troubled sea — 

Oh, let us sail over and meet them, 

Jesus’ life-boat will carry us free. 

They say we shall dwell there forever. 

If we list to our Saviour's command; 

They say we shall ever be happy 

When safe in that beautiful land; 

’Tis there we shall meet.loving Jesus, 

Who suffered and died us to save; 

He will stand on the bright shore and hail us, 

As we ride o'er the last broken wave. 

They say we shall know all our loved ones, 

When we meet on that bright golden shore; 

They say we shall clasp hands so gladly, 

And together rejoice evermore. 

O, let us prepare for the journey, 

Let our hearts be kept loyal and true; 

Then the Saviour will watch and protect us 

Till the mansions of Heaven are in view. 










11 


THE PlbCaRIMS. 


To my mind the second grandest sight ever beheld on earth by 
angels and men was the sight of the worshiping Pilgrims at Plymouth 
Rock, New England, in December, sixteen hundred and twenty. For 
five months the Pilgrim baud had been tossed to and fro by the angry 
billows of old ocean, anxiously looking and longing for a place where 
they might make for themselves and their descendents a home conse¬ 
crated to freedom. When they landed, we are told that their first act 
was to erect a cross and then offer worship to the God of the universe, 
and thus dedicate the land to religion. I certainly think that just then 
the angels of heaven once more mingled their voices with the voices 
on earth in singing praises to the great all Father. But little did the 
Pilgrims know of the turmoil, opposition and hardships that awaited 
them in their heroic efforts for freedom. Little did they think that 
because of foreign enemies and home traitors, that centuries must pass 
by ere their cherished hope would be fully realized in the then newly 
discovered land*. Then followed 161 years of colonial life; this was fol¬ 
lowed by 84 years of constitutional liberty for the white man—just 245 
years, and America was absolutely free. Hallelujah ! 


Iii sixteen hundred and one score 
At Plymouth Rock I see 

A band of Pilgrims on the shore, 

In search of liberty. 

Old England tried to force our sires 
To pay a tax on tea; 

Then kneeling 'round their own camp tires 
They prayed to he set free. 

In seventeen hundred seventy-six, 

As history tells to me, 

Assembled in that Quaker town 
They struck for liberty. 












Tlien years of toil and strife and blood 
Were borne most manfully, 

Till England by her edict said 
The colonies are free. 

t 

(Spoken—T hus it continued for about eighty years, and then ) 

When treason's traitorous motley band 
Made known their base design. 

Which was to rob Columbia's land 
Of Freedom's bold ensign— 

’Twas then the Blue. “Jacksonian" like, 

To check their plans begun, 

And said: “If God will help us strike, 

This thing shall not be done." 

God helps the right, the good, the true, 

But frustrates base design, 

God gave this nation to the blue, 

With Freedom's bold ensign. 

From North to South, from East to West, 
O'er mountain, plain or sea, 

Beneath the flag we love the best 
Columbia’s sons are free. 









13 


MOTHER’S SIGHTLESS BOY. 

, I ' . 


In one of the battles on the Peninsula, a bright, courageous boy was 
shot with a niinnie ball just behind the right eye; the ball passed dear 
through and came out just behind the left eye. He was blind. When 
at Annapolis, Md., the Post Surgeon was examining the wound, he 
said to the Chaplain: “ This boy is blind lorever.” “Well,” said the 
Chaplain, “ Doctor, that is a very sad case.” Then the young, sight¬ 
less hero spoke and said: “ Gentlemen, if that i.-s true, it is sad for me ; 
but I want you to know that I would go through it again for the old 
flag and for the Union.” 


DEDICATED TO THE BRAVE BOY WHO LOST THE SIGHT OF 
BOTH EYES ON THE PENINSULA IN 1862. 


The sound of war was in the land, 

He left his happy home, 

Beneath the flag to take his stand, 

And guard the nation’s dome. 

His arm was strong, though smooth his face. 
His heart was fixed like steel. 

To save the nation from disgrace, 

And seek the nation’s weal. 

With deep blue eyes and auburn hair, 

With active mind and limb, 

He hurried forth to do and dare, 

Whatever was left to him. 

He carried with him mother's love 
And father’s blessing too; 

And none can tell how proud he felt 
But those who wore the blue. 













14 


Six months had passed when down the bay 
To Fort Monroe we sailed; 

The home he loved seemed far away, 

But naught of courage failed. 

The spring campaign of sixty-two 
Was*fairly under way, 

And he longed to see the stars and stripes 
Borne onward, day by day. 

The smoke of battle fills the air, 

The deadly missel flies; 

Our hero gave for right and home 
Those sparkling, deep blue eyes. 

No more to see the dear old fiag, 

Though once the sight gave joy, 

He now is known where’er he goes 
As—mother’s sightless boy. 

But there’s a world where all are free, 
We're hastening to it fast; 

We'll stand upon a level there, 

When the gates of death are past. 

Beneath the everlasting dome, 

The wrongs of earth made right, 

Our hero shouts: “I’m safe at home,’’ 
While God restores his sight. 

To see the flag in endless day, 

And rally neath its fold 

Where all our tears are wiped away. 

And where we ne’er grow old; 

There with the angel choir to sing, 

And angel glory share 

In praising our Immanuel King, 

For there's no sorrow there. 









15 


©EJ'J. G. G JV1EAI3E AT GETTYSBURG. 


Many men have reproached General George G. Meade as having 
been timid and over cautious in the battle of Gettysburg; but as we 
review his course after the lapse of years, and take into the account all 
the facts connected with his assuming command of the Army of the 
Potomac, we can see very clearly that his course was both able and 
wise; for if he had permitted some of his hot-headed Generals to dash 
their commands against the Confederate lines, the chances are that 
whilst he would have iought a magnificent battle, he would have been 
magnificently beaten; for when the battle was over, it was won, and 
that was all. The reserve ammunition had been drawn upon and very 
few infantry men were held in reserve. 


Sometimes 'tis brave to travel slow, 

Mark well the wanderings to and fro 
Of those who would defeat you; 

So Meade, at Gettysburg was brave, 

And by his prudence helped to save 
The Nation—with the blue. 

With Hancock, Gibbon, Webb and Hunt, 
To give advice, then hold the front; 

With Cushing, Hays and Rickett; 
While Providence made Wilcox blind, 
And Pettigrew could never find 
His way—to help bold Pickett. 

With Pickett crushed the field was won, 
And retrograde was then begun 
By Lee—the rebel master. 

But Meade was prudent, although slow— 
Far better let the Rebels go 

Than risk much worse disaster. 












16 


But Meade was mustered out one day, 

And a grateful Nation was heard to say: 

Thy virtues we will cherish, 

And once a year exert our powers 
To strew thy grave with blooming flowers, 
Till man from earth shall perish. 








17 


THE HOPEFUL UNION SOLDIER. 


Allegheny City, Pa., April 2, 1889. 

Hopefulness is a habit of soul in man that is of great advantage to 
him in any and every relation or situation in life. The hopeful mer¬ 
chant, the hopeful lawyer, or minister of the gospel, is more likely to 
succeed than he who is ever and anon fearful and complaining. But no 
situation in life is better calculated to show this fact than army life. 
The hopeful soldier was more than half armed—to such we dedicate 
these lines:— 


I saw a Union soldier, 

A freeman good and true, 

He was marching in Virginia, 

Clad in the army blue. 

His back was heavy laden, 

His strength was almost gone, 

But he shouted as he journeyed 
The victory will come! 

CHORUS: 

Then palms of victory, crowns of glory, 

Palms of victory we shall wear. Repeat Chorus. 

I saw him in the evening, 

The sun was bending low, 

Had overtopped the mountains 
And reached the vale below; 

But he kept pressing onward, 

Without the life or drum, 

Still shouting as he journeyed 

The victory will come! Chorus. 









18 


He heard the song- of triumph 
At Appomattox tree, 

Then joined the Union chorus 
With a hearty three times three. 

The cruel war was over, 

The fighting was all done; 

He shouted loud Hosanna! 

The victory has come. Chorus . 











19 


TJHE GETTYSBURG BATTLE flEbD. 


Air, “Tramp, Tramp,” &c. 

While we stand on memory's shore, 

And recount the perils o'er, 

Through which God hath led the Nation in the past, 
From those scenes so far away, 

Voices come, which seem to say, * 

Prize your freedom, and forever hold it fast. 

CHORUS : 

Tramp, tramp, tramp, the Nation's marching; 
Onward, upward we will go, 

Till our earthly race is run, 

When our King will say, Well done, 

And release us from all service here below. 

Since the years beyond the hood, 

Only once more precious blood 
Stained the earth and marked the footsteps of the true. 
Then, with stars and stripes unfurled, 

Waive this answer round the world, 

We'll keep sacred all the trophies of the blue. 

Chorus :—Tramp, tramp, tramp, &c. 

Now, with charity to all, 

North and South, both great and small, 

Be this timely nervous admonition given— 

In your strife for place and fame, 

Recollect the expressive name, 

G. A. R., to do the will and work of Heaven. 

Chorus: —Tramp, tramp, tramp, &c. 













20 


Then with loyal hearts and true, 

To the red, the white, the blue, 

For the Union and for Liberty we stand; 

Feeling sure our cause is just, 

While in God we put our trust. 

Pledge our fortune, life, and honor to this land. 

Chorus :—Tramp, tramp, tramp, &c. 

* 

With the strife of earth all o'er, 

When old Time shall be no more, 

May we hear the Grand Commander call us home, 
From a state by factions riven, 

To the bless'd abodes of Heaven, 

There to dwell beneath the everlasting dome. 

Connellsville, June, 18S0. 








21 


There is no room for jealousy or envy to exist between the G. A. 
R. and the U. V. L. They belong to the one family, The Blue. But 
there is a patriotic difference in the wording of the contract made with 
the Government at the time of enlistment. The meaning of an enlist¬ 
ment for three years, or during the war was to crush out the rebellion 
at any cost, and three years or during the war was the time required to 
pot down rebellion. There is a patriotic distinction and difference in 
the contract made with die Government; let each one be accorded 
their hard-earned rights with cheerfulness. 

UNION VETERAN LEGION. 


Sung at First Anniversary of Encampment No. 1. 

One year of toil has passed away 
Since, from the night, it saw the day, 

An Institution tinged with gray, 

The “Union Veteran Legion.” 

'Tis here to stay its term of years, 

So now dismiss your doubts and fears; 

It lives above all scoffs and sneers— 

The “Union Veteran Legion.” 

They represent the tried and true, 

Who waged the deadly conflict through, 

While wearing they loved and honored the blue, 
The “Union Veteran Legion.” 

Whatever else they fail to do, 

They will put the equalization through 
To pay the men who wore the blue. 

The “Union Veteran Legion.” 

Thanks to the men who conceived the thought, 

That into an organization brought 

Men who can neither be scared or bought, 

The “Union Veteran Legion.” 







22 


Then, Comrades, live as yon have begun, 

Mark well the right in the race you run, 

And the Master will say at the last, ‘-Well done! 
“Union Veteran Legion!” 

Come to the place prepared for you, 

A harp, a crown, and a mansion too, 

With Freedom and your journey through, 
“Union Veteran Legion.” 

Then with the angel choir we’ll sing 
All glory to the Freeman’s King, 

And make the heavens’ high arches ring 
With “Union Veteran Legion.” 











23 


BEDIC/tTED TO EJMCAMPJVIEJMT NO. 1. 


Twas the Union Veteran Legion band 
Who struck for right and liberty, 

And said, together we will stand 
Till all Columbia's sons are free. • 

Three years we heard the minnie balls, 

Three years the whizzing, bursting shells, 
Three years the morning bugle calls, 

Three years the squeaky rebel yells. 

Three years the wondering nations had, 

Three years of national deep concern. 

Three years of history bright or sad, 

Three years the will of God to learn. 

Three years old Glory rose or fell, 

Three years the Yankee Eagle reeled, 

Three years as if by magic spell. 

Three years God's will and plan revealed. 

Three years of toil and strife and blood, 

Three years, for friends at home, of tears; 
Three years amid temptation’s Hood, 

Three years of varied hopes and fears. 

Three years wiped out the leprous stain, 

Three years maintained the freeman’s right, 
Three years, from Georgia up to Maine, 

The Union army won the tight. 

Three years, a trinity unfolds 
Three years to our admiring view. 

Three years, and all the world beholds 
The glorious conquest of the blue. 

Three years of valor, truth and love. 

Three years on earth beneath the sun. 

Three years to which the powers above 
Will say, at last, three years, well done. 










24 


THE UNION VETERAN bEGIOJd. 


The Union Veteran Legion band 
Side by side forever stand, 

At home, abroad, on sea or land, 

Dauntless, brave and true. 

Live on the held of battle, 

Live on the field of battle, ->v 
Live on the field of battle, 

Victory in view. 

Three years they heard the rebels yell, 

Three years the whizzing, bursting shell, 

But they won the fight and live to tell, 

Dauntless, brave and true. Chorus. 

Then give to each an honored place, 

For service done the human race, 

When they went forth cold lead to face, 

Dauntless, brave and true. Chorus. 

The sons of worthy sires now stand 
Like walls of brick and sacks of sand, 

Strong breastworks, to protect the land, 

Dauntless, brave and true. Chorus. 

With Lincoln, Grant and Sherman too, 

We stand amid the tried and true, 

And shout for those who wore the blue, 

Dauntless, brave and true. Chorus. 

Then fling all doubts and fears away, 

The stars and stripes must win the day, 

While we trust in God and watch and pray, 

Dauntless, brave and true. Chorus. 











eOLUMBIA’S BRAVE AJMD TF^UE. 


The following lines were written to be read or sung at the meeting 
of the Veteran Legion, and intended to be set to the tune of “Jamie’s 
on the Stormy Sea:” r 


In the days of martial glory, 

Many a field was damp and gory; 

Listen while I tell the story 
Of Columbia’s brave and true: 

Fathers, husbands, sons and brothers 
Left their children, wives and mothers, 

To maintain the rights of others 

’Neath the Red, the White, the Blue. 

CHORUS : 

Hallelujah! hallelujah! 

Freemen in the land of Beulah! 

With the stars and stripes victorious 
We have Best and Peace and Home. 

See the Union legions summing; 

Hear their shouts and martial drumming:. 
Abraham, the boys are coming 
Forth to go in freedom's cause; 

Footmen, horsemen, landmen, seamen, 

Proud, because they all are freemen, 

Ready to destroy all foeman 

Of the Union and its laws. Chorus. 








26 


Years of toil and strife and slaughters, 

On the land and on the waters, 

Gave Columbia’s sons and daughters 
Victory o’er the rebel host. 

With the eagle soaring o’er us. 

We can shout the Union chorus 
From New England to Bosporus 

On the great Pacific coast. Chorus. 

Men were strong, and men were weary, 

Days were bright, and dark and dreary 
Ere the victory perched so cheery 
On old Glory’s spangled blue. 

All the world was watching, waiting. 

Grant’s and Sherman’s worth debating, 

But the 9th of April dating. 

Said the cruel war is through. Chorus 















27 


« 


BRAVE BOY FROM IN 01 AN A. 


In the early part of the late war a young man came down from In¬ 
diana into tY est Virginia, and, alas ! too soon he was seen lying at the 
root of a tree bleeding and dying in the midst of a battle. A comrade, 
bending over him, heard him with fast failing breath speak of his 
mother and of home; he also pronounced the name of Jesus. Just 
then a squadron of cavalry dashing by, going into the fight, with the 
flag unfurled to the breeze, the eye of the dying boy caught sight of 
the colors, and reaching up his hand feebly lie said: ‘‘Leave me, fol¬ 
low that flag, take good care of it; I am content to die here alone.” 


Brave boy from Indiana, 

Thy work on earth is done, 
Thy life was brief but useful, 

Thy glory is begun. 

We'll tell of thee in story, 

We'll sing of thee in song, 

Till in millennial glory 

We join the ransomed throng. 

For when we look to Jesus, 

Upon the battle-field. 

From sin He doth release us, 

This truth has been revealed, 
All those who tight for freedom 
And fall upon the sod, 

Shall fiiid a home of freedom 
In presence of our God. 












28 


Through all the years of turmoil, 
The best of blood was shed, 

To enrich Columbia's subsoil, 

By the mouldering of her dead. 
Stout hearts did often falter, 

Strong arms did helpless grow, 
When on our country's altar 

Our youth was seen to glow. 

Brave boy, we'll ne'er forget thee. 
Nor the lesson thou didst teach; 
Thy looks, thy words, thy actions, 

A constant sermon preach. ■ 

The noblest place for man to die 
Is where he dies for man, 

Then in a patriot's grave to lie, 
Ador : ed by all the clan. 











29 


THE BEAUTIFUb. 


Perhaps all men have their ideals of the beautiful: but who shall 
determine which one is the standard? for they are numerous—no two 
alike. But is there no standard of beauty ? Yes, there is. The thing 
or object that continues in the form, color and expression intended and 
given by the Almighty Creator is beautiful; the productions of God are 
all beautiful, and always beautiful, until distorted and warped by the 
forces and influences that are around all earthly things. 


There's beauty in the clear sun light. 
There's beauty in a shower; 

There's beauty in a star-lit night. 

There's beauty in each hour. 

There's beauty in a virtuous thought. 
There’s beauty in a prayer; 

There's beauty in what God hath wrought. 
There's beauty everywhere. 

There's beauty in the moon's pale beam, 
There’s beauty in a fiower, 

There’s beauty in the rippling stream, 

Or the rushing torrent's power. 

There's beauty in the ocean waves, 

As mountain high they roll; 

There's beauty in the plan which saves, 
And beautifies the soul. 

There’s beauty in the harvest field, 

There's beauty on the sod; 

Mild beauty nature’s sheen doth yield, 

And beauty points to God. 

My soul in beauty live and die, 

Let beauty work like leaven; 

In beauty scale the azure sky, 

There’s beauty up in Heaven. 










30 


There’s beauty in the forest trees, 
There’s beauty all around. 

There’s beauty in the gentle breeze, 
And in the solid ground; 

Praise God we have the beautiful, 

And beauty yet in store, 

In beauty then be dutiful, 

And praise him more and more. 

There’s beauty in an honest man, 

“The noblest work of God.” 
There’s beauty in a child—who can 
Do right—without the rod; 

There’s beauty in the church on earth, 
When free from all alloy, 

The beauty of man’s second birth 
Gives Saints and Angels joy. 

I'll gaze upon the beautiful 

Till by its moulding power, 

I'm changed into the dutiful, 

And trustful every hour. 

For every phase on nature's side 
Teach lessons of good cheer 
To those who in the Lord confide, 
Throughout the circling year. 

Connellsvillp, Pa., July 10, 1879. 












31 


THE M/cSTER JVlASON. 


The Masonic fraternity stands forth before the world as the most 
ancient and honorable secret order among men. Its only weakness at 
this, or at any time, has been and is that so many of its members seem 
never to have thoroughly digested its covenants and the dual meaning 
of its ceremonies, forgetting that they are ever present and binding; 
but why wonder at this when we remember that men, who made per¬ 
sonal promises to .Jesus, violated them without even a promise of com¬ 
pensation. 


For antiquity and honored deeds 
Unrivaled and alone they stand 
Before the world, sowing the seeds 
Of virtue with a liberal hand. 

True to a brother in distress; 

True to his wife and kindred dear— 
Such motive brings true happiness 
At noon, at night, to sage or seer. 

True to his country and his God, 

A Master Mason from his youth 
Travels the way by others trod, 

And lives a life of peace and truth. 

With dauntless courage, in the strife 
Of earth and time he's bold to stand, 
And sees, by faith, a crown of life 
Placed on his head by Father’s hand. 












32 


TO TJHE SIR KNIGHTS. 


Sir Knight, be brave, be true, 

Ke'er wield thy sword for wrong} 

But right, with GOD and man , pursue 
And thus make virtue strong. 

Give innocence a smile, 

To cheer her on her way, 

Through earth's untrodden dark detile 
Up to bright realms of day. 

Be faithful unto death, 

And thou shalt have thy pay 

At sunset—at thy parting breath— 
With earth-born sin and clay. 

Then labor on and wait, 

Refreshments soon may come, 

When Christ will ope the golden gate 
And say, “ Sir Knight, well done! ” 

Then Solomon the First, 

And Hiram, King of Tyre. 

The Widow’s Son, and all the host, 
Will join the angelic choir. 

And sing to Him who loved .the race 
And hath our sins forgiven; 

To Him be glory, for His grace 
Hath made us meet for heaven. 










33 


DIVINE PROVIDENGE. 


Divine providence, as a fact, few men can doubt. Ourtrouble some¬ 
times arises because we are not satisfied in our minds as to whether it 
is merely general or special. But if we take time to think we will make 
the discovery that, from tlie very nature of things, it must be both, for 
he who knows the bulk must of necessity know the particles: there¬ 
fore He who knoweth the race of man must know the individual: 
therefore He who from zone to zone doth guide the fowl in its certain 
flight, iu the long path that I must tread, will surely guide my steps 
aright. 

The Lord unrolls the deep-toned muttering thunder; 

His hand directs the vivid lightning's flash; 

Be still, my soul, admire, adore and wonder; 

Thy Father's arm. though strong, is never rash. 

His eye can see the white caps of old ocean; 

His hand unfurls the whirlwind in its flight; 

His word can still the tempests wild commotion; 

His love can make the darkest dungeon light. 

Be brave, my soul, though some prove false to duty, 
And, like Elijah, thou art left alone, 

God sees the tear that dims the eye of beauty. 

And for His trustful child erects a throne. 

Let goodness, love and mercy, be thy tower. 

And. like the eagle, rise to seek the light; 

Then in God's own good time, and by His power, 

He'll bring thee where thy faith will change to sight. 









34 


WAIT FOR JUSTICE. 


The writer was once on a time foreman of a jury in Allegheny 
County Court. The plaintiff in the case was a colored woman ; the 
defendants were two young white women, dress makers. They were 
charged with larceny by bailee. The proof was clear that they re¬ 
ceived a dress pattern from the colored woman, and promised to make 
her a dress; it was also clearly proven that they never made the dress 
and never returned the goods. The jury returned a verdict of guilty 
in manner and form as indicted ; but the judge said : “No, I will exer¬ 
cise my power and arrest this verdict, declare it suspended and will 
make an arrangement by which these parties, the defendants, shall be 
free.’’ The writer never could understand just how the thing was 
done, but it was done and stands to day as part of the record of 
Allegheny County Court. 


There is a tide in social life 
Before the court—for man or wife— 

But this is only seeming; 

Before the Lord, for white or black, 

Upon a throne or on the rack. 

Virtue alone stands gleaming. 

Judges on earth may seem to rule 
The court, the state, the church, the school, 
While this frail life is passing; 

But when earth's seeming law shall end, 
Then all mankind shall comprehend 
The law that's everlasting. 

The law divine decides each case. 

Not by the color of the face. 

But by the heart's intending. 

Black will be white, if black was right, 

For naught can blot, or change, or blight, 

In God's eternal blending— 














35 


Then carry all thy grievance where 
Truth, like the noon-day sun, shall glare, 
To show where right doth center; 
For in earth's courts the wrong may win, 
While Cast and Pride and Lust and Sin 
Are thus allowed to enter. 

God pity all the human race, 

And grant us His redeeming grace, 

To save us from corruption— 

At home, in court, in church or state, 

For this would lead us soon or late 
To absolute destruction. 










3(5 


GEN. ©R/cNT /tT PITTSBURGH IJsl 1879. 


In December, 1879, General U. S. Grant visited Pittsburgh. All 
our people seemed anxious to welcome him, so a banquet was prepared 
at the Monongahela House. When the Hero of Appomattox was seated 
at the board he saw what influence was intended to rule at the feast, 
and his first act was to turn his goblet down. 


The world's great Captain, slow of speech. 

But slower yet to frown, 

Was by his actions ‘apt to teach. 

So he turned the goblet down. 

CHORUS. 

He turned the goblet down. 

He turned the goblet down. 

He saw what influence ruled the feast 
And turned the goblet down. 

Heroic act. 'tis the Nation's pride 
That her son of rare renown, 

To check excess in its rapid stride. 

Would turn the goblet down. Chorus. 

On many a field of strife and blood 
He braved the rebel frown, 

So now amid temptation's flood 

He turned the goblet down. Chorus 

In foreign lands, 'mid dukes and lords, 

Of color white and brown. 

His actions spoke much more than words 
When he turned the goblet down. Chorus. 














37 


IJM MEMORY OF MY MOTHER. 


I met a young man in one of the streets of Connellsville, Pa He 
reeled and staggered under the influence of strong drink, and whilst 
in that sad state uttered the following, alniost word for word : 


I know I’ve been a very bad boy to day; 

I’ve been drinking with one and another. 

For two or three days and nights, but hey! 
"‘■Please, sir, do not tell my mother." 

CHORUS : 

Oh, the memory of that dear mother. 

Her love 'twas like but one other, * 

Xo stranger, though lover, nor sister or brother; 
Only Christ and a faithful mother. 

I know I've been a very bad boy to-day, 

And I heed not my father or brother; 

They are very much like myself; but hey! 

“Please, sir, do not tell my mother!’' 

Chorus. 

I know I've been a very bad boy to-day. 

My convictions I cannot smother. 

Where'er I turn something seems to say — 

“Rembember the advice of your mother." 

Chorus. 

I know I've been a very bad boy to-day, 

And if God gives me but another. 

I'll strive to do right—even now I pray, 

“Lord help me to honor my mother." 

Chorus. 













38 


How many there are in this land of the free, 

Who get rich by destroying their brother; 

They deal in a poison (for the sake of the fee,) 
Which controls even the love for a mother. 

Chorus. 

Oh rumseller, think of the day that must come 
To thyself, and thy self-ruined brother; 

A day of swift vengeance, of anguish and gloom, 
And remorse for a heart broken mother. 

Choi us. 


« 











39 


FOUf^-SCOf^E. 


There was a pleasant gathering at the house of Mr. John Tittle, in 
the Third Ward, last evening, on the occasion of the eightieth birthday 
of that gentlemen, who is enjoying the best of health, and who is loved 
and respected by all who know him. It was a kind of informal meeting 
participated in by his children still residing here, his numerous grand¬ 
children, and a number of invited guests. The aged gentleman was 
mucft pleased to see such a goodly company gathered around him, and 
the following original poem w T as read by one of them in honor of the 
occasion: 


LINES DEDICATED TO MR. JOHN TITTLE, OF JOHNSTOWN, PA. 


Just eighty years have passed away, 

Since from the breath of God he came 
To wonder at the light of day, 

Unknown to fortune or to fame. 

But through these years a thread has run, 
Which binds the present to the past; 

For life on earth when it is done 
Is but a chain—of strange contrast. 

Just eighty years of lights and shades, 

Of anxious thought, of noble strife, 

While journeying o'er these mundane glades 
With longings—for a better life. 

These years have not been spent in vain; 
Though but a plodder he has been. 

His earnest thought was how to gain 
A home with Jesus—bright, serene. 













40 


Just eighty years—eventful years— 
Amid the sunshine or the shower; 
Bounding with hope or sad with fears; 
Alternate joy or grief each hour. 

But they are gone—to come no more; 
Earth is receding fast away; 

He nears the everlasting shore, 
Charmed by the streaks of endless day. 

A home—a crown awaits him there, 
Hard by the throne of God most high; 
A robe, a palm, a mansion fair. 

Why need he tremble then to die? 

To die is hut to leave the few, 

And join the many gone before, 

Just as the sparkling drop of dew. 
Kissed by the sunshine, dies to soar. 


\ Friend 


Johnstown , Cambria Co., Pa., Feb. IS, 1881. 











41 


WEbCOJVIE SONG. 


To be Sung at Muster-in. Tune , “Old Hundred 


Thrice welcome, Comrades, to this band. 

Where veterans count their perils o'er; 
Here round the flag, join hand in hand, 
United as in days of yore, 

With stars undimmed, our banner waves 

O'er North and South, o'er land and sea. 
Marks off our fallen comrade's graves— 

A pledge of future liberty. 

) 










42 


THE TRUE KNIGHT. 


Few, if any, of the benevolent orders excel the Knights of Honor. 
They are in America to stay and work for the comfort and happiness 
of mankind. It is certainly a relief to an old man to know that whilst 
he is out on the ocean of life, tossed and driven by the surging waves of 
time, there are those in the world who, like a kindred spirit, are looking 
for an opportunity to cool his lips or to fan his brow. Good angels are 
good beings ; may they attend our pathway to the end ! 


{Tune, *‘Sweet Afton.”) 


The true Knight of Honor, with banner unfurled. 

Goes forth like a hero to light up the world; 

With bright hopes and promise, with garlands of peace— 
With music, with friendship, with love ne’er to cease. 

The true Knight of Honor, when loud thunders roar 
And the storm king in fury drives out from the shore, 
Stands firm by the light-house ’mid the rocket’s red glare, 
A,nd shouts to his comrades, your dangers I share. 

The true Knight of Honor, how grand to behold! 

He lives for his kindred—not silver and gold; 

Kor fame or preferment, in church or in state. 

But he lives to soothe sorrow, and smiles to create. 

The true Knight of Honor attracts our esteem 
Like flowers in spring time, or morning sunbeam, 

For he lives to enlighten—he lives to relieve 
The poor, the afflicted—condolence receive. 












43 


The true Knight of Honor no respite would seek 
From duty or danger, whilst life's incomplete, 

But onward, still onward the Samaritan goes, 
Defending the helpless by crushing their foes. 

The true Knight of Honor when life's toils are o'er. 
Shall rest from his labor and suffer no more; 

The Supreme Dictator will then say, “Well done, 
Enter into my glory and sit down on my throne.” 












44 


SOMEBODY’S D/cRLIJNG. 


At the close of the war, a Southern lady visiting in Washington, D. 
C., one night about 12 o’clock, felt the poetic spark in her soul—but 
how could she write in the dark? No match could she find; but 
she threw open the shutters and the street lamp gave sufficient light so 
that she could see the white paper. With her pencil she put her 
thoughts on paper. Next morning, on examination, she found that 
she had written the following touching song: 


Into a ward of the white-washed walls, 
Where the dead and the dying lay; 

Wounded by bayonets, shells and balls, 
Somebody’s darling was borne one day. 
Somebody’s darling, so young and so brave, 
Wearing yet on his pale sweet face. 

So soon to be hid by the dust of the grave, 
The lingering look of his boyhood’s grace. 

Matted and damp are the curls of gold. 
Kissing the snow from that fair young brow; 
Pale are the lips of delicate mould. 
Somebody’s darling is dying now. 

Back from the beautiful blue-veined brow 
Brush all the wandering waves of gold; 

Cross his hands on his bosom now, 
Somebody’s darling is still and cold. 

Kiss him once for somebody's sake, 

Murmur a prayer soft and low; 

One bright curl from its fair mates take, 
They were somebody’s pride you know. 
Somebody's hand hath rested there— 

Was it a mother's, soft and white? 

Or have the lips of a sister fair 
Been baptized in those waves of light. 













45 


God knows best, he was somebody's love. 
Somebody's heart hath enshrined him there; 
Somebody wafted his name above, 

Night and morn, on the wings of prayer; 
Somebody wept when he marched away. 
Looking so handsome, brave and grand; 
Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay, 
Somebody clnng to his parting hand. 

Somebody’s waiting and watching for him. 
Yearning to clasp him again to her heart, 
And there he lies with his bine eyes dim. 
And smiling, childlike lips apart. 

Tenderly bury the fair young dead, 

Pausing to drop on his grave, a tear; 

Carve on the wooden slab at his head. 
Somebody’s darling slumbers here. 












46 


fORGIVE AND fORGET. 


6, forgive and forget, for this life is too lieeting 
To waste it in brooding o'er wrongs we have met; 

It is better, far better, to smother our anger. 

To teach this proud heart to forgive and forget. 

In the path we must tread, leading down to the valley. 
Are crosses and trials to lift and to bear; 

And the chalice of life from which we are now drinking 
Oft bears to our lips drops of sorrow and care. 

But this life is so short, be it sunshine or shadow, 

That we cannot afford to brood over a wrong; 

Let us lift up our burden's and bear them on bravely; 
We’ll lay them down shortly, it cannot be long. 

Then forgive and forget, if the friends we love fondly 
Prove themselves to be false and unworthy of trust; 
Oh deal with them kindly, for they are but mortal, 
Erring like us, for we too are but dust. 

O, deal with them tenderly, pity their weakness, 

For we know every heart hath its evil and good: 

We all have one Father, and hence we are brothers; 
Then let us forgive and forget, as we should. 














47 


REMEMBER THE POST ROOM JO-NIGHT 

Olcl comrades, remember the Post room. 

And make it your duty to call: 

Forget not to-night there’s a meeting, 

And he at your place in the hall. 

Go greet your old comrades with kindness; 

Go stand as we stood in the light, 

With the touch to left at the elbow, 

Forget not the meeting to-night. 

There’s a genial glow in the Post room 
That elsewhere you hardly will find; 

There’s warmth in the greeting of comrades 
That ties of fraternity bind. 

Those links that now bind us together 
Were forged ’mid the flames of the fight. 

So comrades remember the Post room, 

And go to the meeting tp night. 

Remember the dead that when living 
So bravely stood by to the last, 

And cherish the names of old tent-mates 
That fell by your side in the past. 

Remember their widows and orphans. 

And see that their burdens are light; 

For the sake of the dead and the living. 

Go visit the Post room to-night. 

Renlember the toils and the dangers 
Endured when we settled the row', 

And those that survive need our friendship, 

’Tis right we should stand by them now, 

And see that the wolf never enters 
The threshold, for the sake of the past. 

Of those that helped save us the battle. 

And fought for the flag to the last. 










48 


Stand up for each other united. 

And keep the old camp-fire aflame, 

Regarding our comrades as brothers, 

And aid in sweet charity’s name. 

Be loyal to Post as to country, 

Stand firm in the cause of the right; 

Forget not to aid by your presence 
The boys at the Post room to-night. 

Too soon will our marches be over. 

« 

Too soon the last bugle will call, 

When death will extinguish our camp-fire, 

And crown himself monarch of all. 

So comrades attend to the Post room to-night. 
And see that the camp-fire is bright; 

For the sake of the past and the present, 

Attend the meeting to-night. 

How many times after the battle 
Old comrades would fail to appear, 

As the sergeant would call the roll over 
How few could answer back u Here.” 

But to-night there are no such excuses, 

Respond for the duty is light, 

For the sake of our comrades, the fallen. 

Come down to the Post room to-niglit. 

Then comrades remember the Post room. 

And make it a duty to go 
And stand again shoulder to shoulder 
As once when we throttled the foe. 

Salute the old flag at the altar, 

Our emblem of freedom and right, 

And cheer the old boys that sustained it 
With greetings of kindness to-night. 

J. W. KIN YON. 















49 


GH RISTMAS GAROL. 


There's a song, thrilling song, in the air; 
There's a star, mystic star, in the sky; 

There’s a virgin mother's deep prayer, 

And a helpless infant's low cry— 

Lo! His star flashes out while the beautiful sing, 
And the manger of Bethlehem now cradles a Kino-. 

There’s a tumult of rapturous joy 

O'er the promised, yet wonderful birth. 

For the virgin mother’s sweet boy 
Is the Lord of Heaven and Earth— 

Lo! His star flashes tire, while the beautiful sinir. 
For the manger at Bethlehem now cradles a Kino-. 

In the light of that magnetic star 
Lie the ages, like dew-drops impearled, 

And the Seraph’s song from afar 
Has swept swiftly over the w T orld— 

Every hearth is aflame, and the beautiful sing 
In the homes of the Nation that Jesus is King. 

We rejoice here to-day in the light, 

And w^e echo, thrice echo, the song 

That comes down through the silent night 
From the heavenly angelic throng; 

And we shout to the heavenly evangel they bring, 
While we greet in his cradle our Saviour and King. 







50 


GOSPEL TEMPERAN6E VS. 
CHRISTIANITY. 

How many so-called temperance people are dissatisfied with what 
God has ordained and established as an agency in the world to do the 
work of moral reform, and are looking for something new and strange. 
Many of these very persons never think of doing their part in church 
work, and yet they are ever ready *o run wild over that which is new, 
strange and exciting. And yet, every sensible man must know that it 
is the quiet, constant worker that is successful as an advocate of moral 
reformation. Look at the same principle in rhyme. For how many 
there are who seem to say— 

What is there that is nezv to-day, 

Exciting, strange and bold, 

In which to while the hours away? 

I'm tired of the old. 

Old forms, old truths, have lost their charms. 

The world seems dull and drear, 

Unless some new man calls to arms 
The cause is lost, I fear. 

Virtue and honor are but names; 

. God's plan is out of date. 

I want the new mysterious chains. 

To rule and regulate. 

Poor, silly mortal, stop and think. 

The old is God's own plan; 

To snatch his child from ruin's brink. 

And make him yet a man. 

No new arrangement can be made. 

To break the spell of sin; 

'Tis Calvary’s old Damascus blade 
That must such victory win. 

Stand by the tried and good old way, 

Thy Saviour's counsel take, 

And bear the cross from day to day 
Humbly—for Jesus sake. anon. 












51 


TJHE SOLILOQUY FOF^ ObD AGE. 

An old man was heard to say: “I am now going down the western 
slope of life’s mountain. I have no complaint to make with regard to 
the providence that has been over and around me through life; but as I 
take time to call up the past, I discover that I have more friends and 
relatives in Heaven than I have on earth; I am getting lonely, even at 
home, for I am but a pilgrim here. My real home and kindred are 
yonder.” 

Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay. 
Gone are my friends from my home and sight away, 

‘ Gone from the earth to that land no more to roam, 

I long to hear the Saviour calling. Child, come home! 
I'm coming! I'm coming! to that land no more to roam; 
I long to hear the Saviour calling. Child, come home! 

While thus I weep, and my heart is tilled with pain, 

Nor can I sleep, for my friends come not again, 
Grieving for forms and wandering still alone, 

I long to hear the Saviour calling, Child, come home! 
I’m coming! I'm coming! Though wandering still alone; 
O could I hear the Saviour calling. Child, come home! 

Where are the hearts, once so happy and so free. 

My children and wife, who were ever dear to me? 

Gone to that shore where my soul must shortly roam; 

I long to hear the Saviour calling. Child, come home! 
I'm coming! I'm coming! To where my soul must 
shortly roam; 

I long to hear the Saviour calling, Child, come home! 

Farewell to earth—To Immanuel’s Cross I cling; 
Farewell to pain, now my happy soul can sing; 

I go to my place—no longer shall I roam; 

I hear his gentle voice, *tis calling, Child, come home! 
I’m coming! I’m coming! no longer shall I roam, 

O Jesus, Blessed Saviour, take thine own child home! 










52 


SPRING-TIDE. 


The cold and icy bands are broken. 
Spring-tide scenes are come again; 

The skies are clear, and life betoken 
Everywhere ’neatli sun and rain. 

Send it forth. Thou Great Jehovah, 
Thrilling, swelling, brightening earth; 
Bid man's spirit share the sunbeams. 

And the showers of joy and mirth. 

Spring-tide, thou art ever welcome; 

All thy forms, thy choral strains. 

To the mountains and the meadows. 

On the hill-tops, in the plains. 

To all human habitations, 

To the poor, the sick, the old, 

Thou art fraught with consolations, 

Like gems of silver set in gold. 

Thanks to God for Spring's sweet influence; 

Silently, yet grandly ours; 

To the giver let all peoples 
Consecrate their noblest powers. 

And on that bright morn' that's coming. 
After years of silent rest, 

We shall have a spring-tide rising 
To the mansions of the blest. 

There no Autumn shall o'ertake ns; 

One eternal bud and bloom, 

Snow and Winter all on this side; ^ . 
Spring-tide reigns beyond the tomb. 















53 


HALLELUJAH, IsIQjHT IS BF^EAKIJM© ! 


We are going to the grave, but we will not deplore it, 

I Though darkness and corruption encompass the tomb. 
For Jesus hath passed through its portals before us. 

1 be lamp of His love will be our light through its gloom. 

CHORUS: 

All around the world go preach the glorious Gospel; 

All around the world bid the captive souls go free; 

Whosoever now believeth, and the Spirit's seal receiveth, 
Shall be saved at the present, and to all eternity. 

We are going to the grave, but ’twere wrong to deplore it. 
Since God is our ransom, our guardian and our guide. 
He made us and He'll take us, for soon F[e will receive us; 
And death hath no sting since the Saviour hath died. 

CHORUS : 

All around the world send the tidings of Salvation; 

All around the world sing of Jesus wondrous love; 

For He died to save poor sinners, of every type and nation, 
And now He is preparing bright mansions above. 

We are going to the grave, earth's mansions forsaking, 
Perhaps the tried spirit in doubt will linger long; 

But the sunlight of Heaven will beam on our waking. 
And the song we shall sing will he the Seraph's song. 

CHORUS : 

• 

All around the world. Hallelujah light is breaking! 

All around the world Jesus' name shall honored be. 
See the golden streaks of promise in the moral world's 
horizon— 

Come thou desire of Nations, and let us thy glory see. 











54 


PASSED jAWAY. 

On March 22, 188-, Miss Kate R. Wilkie, a worthy young member of 
the Church, departed this life, happy in the Lord. The following lines 
were read at the funeral on the Sabbath following, having been pre¬ 
pared for the occasion. 

There is a stream whose narrow tide 
The known and unknown worlds divide. 

Where all must go; 

Its waveless waters dark and deep. 

’Mid sullen silence downward sweep. 

With noiseless flow. 

On either side that narrow stream 
The flowers bloom, and often seem 
One song to sing. 

Alas! on this side flowers fade, 

And vacant places soon are made— 

How brief is spring! 

While on the other side is seen 
The Tree of Life. ’Tis ever green; 

It's leaf’s a balm 
For all the sorrows of mankind; 

'Twill heal the sick and cure the blind, 

The conscience calm. 

How willing then each saint should be 
To quit this fading side and see 
The other shore, 

And join the throng who loudly sing 
To Christ, the song of blooming spring 
Forevermore. 

For on that other shore no night 
Shall ever settle down to blight 
The soaring soul; 

But one eternal noon of spring. 

In which to be, and bloom, and sing 
Love's ceaseless role. 












55 


WAF^ STATISTICS. 


The following, taken from an old record, comprises 
the volunteers from the several states and territories 
during the war of the rebellion: 


New 


.72,144 

Wisconsin. 

.96.524 

.36,629 

Minnesota. 

.25,052 

.35,262 

Iowa. 

.76,309 

...152,045 

Missouri. 

....109,111 

.23,699 

Kentucky.. 

.79,025 

.... 57,379 

Kansas. 

.20,151 

...467,047 

Tennessee. 

.31,092 

.81.010 

Arkansas. 

.8,289 

...366,107 

('olorado. 

.4,903 

.13,670 

North Carolina. 

.3,156 


California. 

.15,725 

.32,068 

Nevada. 

.1,080 

.16,872 

Dakota Territory. 

.206 

.. 197,147 

Oregon. 

.1,810 

...259,147 

Washington Territory. 

.964 

....259,147 

Nebraska. 

.3,157 

.6,561 

Louisiana. 

.8,224 

.2,576 

Mississippi. 

.545 

.1,290 

Texas. 

.1,965 


Indian Territory. 

.35.030 


Total Number of Volunteers, 2,678,967. 


The Medical history of the war gives the following 
statistics: 

Wounded in action.280,040 | Captured.184,791 

Out of about every 65 men, one man was killed in action. 


<< 
• < 
U 


56 

13 

9 

15 

10 

7 


died of wounds received in action. 

“ “ of disease and unknown causes 

“ “ while in the service. 

“ was captured or reported missing. 

“ was wounded in action, 

captured, one died in captivity. 


From Surgeons’ Report, November 12 , 1870. 

Entire number of men killed in action.35,408 

Died of wounds...49,205 

*■ from Suicide.302 

“ “ Homicide.103 

“ “ Executions.121 

“ “ Disease.186,216 
































































56 


FINALLY, 

Gentle Reader, 

Think well and speak well of the old 
soldier; for, remember, they were engaged 
four years in giving to the world the best 
evidence that has been given for the last 
hundred years that we as a nation have faith 
in God, love Liberty, and believe in Equal 
Rights. It is one thing to say that we sup¬ 
port such doctrines, but it is a stronger thing 
to show it. It is one thing to use logical 
arguments to prove that we love liberty, but 
to receive and give back arguments of lead 
for liberty is stronger and better evidence. 

J. A. D. 

























